Bound By Hate
by sweebab
Summary: World of Warcraft, shortly after the Cataclysm.  Two siblings adjust to their new lives as members of Sylvanas' army.  One embraces immortality, the other tries to cling to their rapidly disappearing humanity.   Work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

A stiff breeze gusted across the plains of the Arathi Highlands, colliding with Thoradin's Wall in the west. The resulting updraft ruffled the hair of the lone Forsaken guard as she made her rounds on the southern portion of the immense barricade that separated the Horde-dominated Hillsbrad from the Human-inhabited Highlands. The guard tucked an unruly lock of her lank blonde hair behind one ear, gazing into the wind. Her dimly-glowing yellow eyes searched the twilight for any sign of Alliance encroachers. Most were smart enough to stay far away from this part of Lordaeron, but there were always exceptions. She gave a grim grin, hoping one would try and pass through or over the wall. Sending an arrow through the heart of a living being would liven up her day.

She blinked, slightly surprised at her sudden macabre thought. She was finding it harder and harder to dredge the buried shreds of humanity from the depths of her mind. That part didn't faze her, what troubled her most was the fact that she hardly cared about her disappearing conscience. With an impatient sigh, she pushed her quiet moral quandaries from her mind and once again focused on the rippling grasses and shrubbery of the Highlands.

"Evenin', Vi! Busy as usual I see," exclaimed a cheerful male voice as an arm was draped around her narrow shoulders. Hiding her surprise at the silent approach and sudden appearance of her company, Violet swiftly drew a notched dagger from her belt, fully intending to hack off the cold arm that held her. As soon as the blade was clear of its sheathe, however, she felt the prick of an equally lethal dagger on the side of her neck. "C'mon, Vi. I'm way too fast for you, haven't you learned anything?" her visitor said in a sympathetic tone as he released her and stepped away.

Violet turned, fury plainly showing on her gaunt face. "One day you'll slip up, Viktor. I advise you to stay far away from me if you value your worthless hide," she nearly snarled as she sheathed her own blade. "What do you want?" she snapped, sizing up her opponent. He was dressed in the typical black leathers and dark hooded cloak of a forsaken stalker: calf-length boots with leather soles for a silent tread; leather pants and tunic; a belt from which hung two wicked-looking daggers; and fingerless gloves for dexterity. She was dressed in a nearly identical outfit, the only differences being a layer of chain mail under her leather tunic; a long black bow and quiver of black-fletched arrows; and her gloves were complete with a reinforcing layer of leather on the palm and fingers. Her dead fingers would have snapped off long ago without the gloves protecting them from the strain of pulling her bowstring taut.

Viktor smiled and pushed his hood back, ruffling his short mop of unkempt blonde hair. Though he appeared at ease, his glowing yellow eyes never left Violet's face. He knew she would attempt to kill him at the first opportunity. He tossed his dagger into the air casually as he replied, "Do I need a reason to visit my dear older sister? I know one day you'll realize you are wrong. When that happens we can stop this silly feud and go back-"

"Shut up, Viktor! Shut up and get out of my sight!" shouted Violet, her voice ringing sharply in the dusk. Viktor's nonchalant expression crumbled for just a moment as a brief flicker of pain crossed his face. But it was only momentary, and his eyes were hard as he looked back at his sister. "I was right. You'll realize that, it'll just take time. And we have all the time in the world now, don't we sister?" he said, smirking.

Violet's patience snapped, and she swiftly nocked an arrow and fired at Viktor. But the arrow buried itself only in the crumbling masonry of the ancient wall. Viktor was already melded into the night, leaving only his dark laughter hanging in the air. Violet wrenched her arrow from the stonework and angrily turned back toward the Highlands, trembling in fury. How dare he speak to her like that! At the first opportunity, she would wipe that smirk off of his pale face for good.

As time passed and her anger dissipated, she began pondering the events that had driven her to this point. To gleefully plotting the deaths of hapless humans and grimly fantasizing about separating her brother's head from his body. With a heavy sigh, she reached down the front of her tunic and pulled out a tarnished silver pendant on a dirty chain. As she turned it over in her gloved hand, an onslaught of memories nearly threatened to overwhelm her. Normally, she quickly squelched these dangerously emotional thoughts as soon as they broke through the careful barriers she had put in place to keep them silent, but tonight she allowed herself to be consumed by them. She needed to remember. She needed to remember her life before this cursed existence. She needed to remember the woman she once was. She needed to remember the man her brother once was. And, most importantly, she needed to remember why she must kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Many months earlier_

"Do you like it? Tell the truth..."

Violet looked up from the silver pendant in her palm and into the hopeful eyes of her younger brother, Viktor. He was already a man at 19 years old, but she had trouble seeing him as anything but the little boy that thought she hung the moon and the stars. She smiled and looked back down at the pendant. To tell the truth, it was obviously a cheap knock-off. The filigree design was crude and the pendant slightly rough around the edges. The chain from which it hung was tarnished and most likely purchased second-hand. Although, the "V" that was engraved into the center of the pendant was nicely done. She idly wondered how he had managed to obtain it while they were stuck here in Arathi Highlands, fighting back the Forsaken. He must have purchased it weeks ago before their deployment and kept it hidden until now.

Though none of that really mattered to Violet. She knew neither she nor Viktor had much money, and the fact that he had remembered her 24th birthday meant much more to her than any gift. She fastened the chain around her neck and smiled at Viktor, reaching up and ruffling his messy blonde hair. "Of course I love it!" she said, pulling him into a hug that he reciprocated after a moment's hesitation. Ever since joining the Alliance military, he felt the need to keep up appearances and act as tough as possible around the other soldiers. It didn't faze Violet, she knew underneath he had a heart of gold. She released him and held up the pendant. "V for Viktor?" she asked teasingly.

Viktor frowned, his brows furrowing over his hazel eyes. "No, V for Violet," he replied. She smiled and tucked the pendant under her brown leather tunic. "It's good luck, I can feel it," she said, "Thanks Vik." Viktor smiled widely, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say a word, though, the voice of their commanding officer boomed out.

"ATTACK! Forsaken attacking! Let's show those deaders that this is our land!"

Violet's bow was out and nocked with a blue-fletched arrow before the commander had even finished speaking. Viktor's daggers were in his hands as he began heading toward the skirmish, Violet following close behind. "Vik, be careful!" Violet shouted over the noise of battle as he disappeared into the shadows. "Aren't I always?" his voice replied. Violet frowned. They both knew caution was the last thing on her brother's mind. He had a teenaged boy's feeling of immortality. On several occasions she had seen him appear in the midst of a group of Forsaken, dispatch one or two if he was lucky, and escape by the skin of his teeth. Each time he put himself in reckless danger, Violet felt as though her heart stopped with worry.

She shook her head to clear it, now was not the time to be paralyzed with baseless fear. She pulled her bow string taut and aimed for the rotted head of a forsaken soldier. She released the arrow, and was rewarded with the sight of the undead monster toppling backward, the shaft of her arrow protruding from his now-dark eye. She mounted a small boulder. She would be an easier target, but she would also have a better view of the battlefield. She frantically searched, her eyes roving for Viktor. She quickly spotted him, locked in combat with a another rogue. She sighted along the length of her arrow, and shot for the Forsaken's unprotected back. The impact sent it staggering forward, allowing Viktor to neatly kill it by thrusting his daggers into its neck, nearly severing the head. Violet smiled grimly and nocked another arrow, searching for her next target.

The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity, though from her vantage point Violet thought the Alliance forces were gaining the upper hand. Violet was aiming for the head of another undead attacker when the sudden pop of breaking glass startled her. Instantly, her eyes began to water and her throat burn, she looked down to see the shattered remains of a flask in between her feet. A noxious green liquid was spreading across her small boulder, blackening anything it contacted. She coughed, then cried out as the liquid touched her left boot, quickly eating through the leather and searing her flesh. She stumbled backward, hardly able to see through her tears. She toppled off the boulder, landing with a thud in the thick grass below. Quickly, she began to crawl away from the boulder, still coughing, trying to clear the vicious fumes from her body. The pain in her feet where the liquid touched them was nearly unbearable. Her only thought was to find a healer, and fast.

"And where do you think you're going?" a deep and oddly melodious voice said from above her as a heavy boot stomped on her back, pinning her to the ground. Violet groaned, trying to wriggle free. "I thank you for testing my newest concoction," the voice continued. Violet dimly heard the hiss of a weapon unsheathing as the undead spoke once more, "You were quite a nuisance on the battlefield, exactly the sort of soldier that should be fighting for the Dark Lady."

The searing fumes from the apothecary's potent poison, coupled with the pressure of the undead's boot pressing down on her back, made each ragged breath a desperate struggle. Violet could barely breathe, let alone fight against the pointed dagger that the Forsaken thrust into her throat.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!" Viktor raged, pacing back and forth in front of Violet's bed in the infirmary tent. "Sittin' on that boulder... might as well have painted a giant target on your chest!" Violet looked up from the small hand mirror in which she had been inspecting the thin pink scar that the Forsaken's dagger had left on the side of her throat. She wanted him to calm down, but knew if she tried to calm him or contradict his claims his anger would only increase. Besides, her voice was rough and her throat very sore from the lingering effects of the fumes she had inhaled.

Instead, she sank back into her pillows, hoping a show of weakness would diffuse Viktor's somewhat-justified rage. She closed her eyes, trying to block out his ranting as she reviewed the events of the day. According to Viktor, he had been in the thick of the battle when he happened to notice she had disappeared from her boulder perch. He immediately vanished from the battle and hastened toward where he had last seen her. He rounded the boulder just in time to see the forsaken apothecary begin to slice into her neck a short ways away. He had immediately stepped through the shadows, appearing behind the undead man, and pulled him off of her. There was a short scuffle, but the apothecary, who was used to using poisons and trickery to dispatch his foes, was no match one-on-one with the enraged man. When Viktor was finished, the undead was a tattered mess of gray flesh twitching on the grass.

He then rolled Violet over (this part she dimly remembered, but being dizzy and nauseated from blood loss and the fumes, the memories were hazy) and pulled off his gloves, pressing them to her flowing stab wound. He ordered her to hold the gloves firmly against her neck, which she did as well as she could, and then quickly carried her to the infirmary tent. From there, the healers has quickly mended her neck, did what they could for her seared eyes, throat, and lungs, and tended to her badly-burned feet, which were now slathered with healing creams and swathed in bandages. Sometime during this, the commanding officer had jubilantly announced the Forsaken were in retreat.

And now here she was, being scolded like a child by her little brother.

She opened her eyes, she found herself staring directly into Viktor's worried face, inches from hers. "You all right?" he said quietly. She nodded. He grinned and continued, "'Cause you look like hell." She grimaced and closed her eyes. She knew he was right, she had seen herself in the hand mirror: red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes; the skin under her nose slightly scabbed and raw; cracked and bloodied lips. All of this courtesy of the Forsaken's potion. She felt Viktor lightly push a strand of her long blonde hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She gave a small smile. Viktor had no way of knowing it, but that was the exact motion their mother would use before giving her a kiss before bed. She felt instantly comforted, and immensely tired. She let out a sigh and settled deeper into the bed.

Viktor drew the blanket up to her neck and took the mirror out of her hand, setting it on a table nearby. "Go to sleep Vi, I'm right here and I'm not goin' anywhere." Violet smiled again and immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

_Several days later_

"Oh Light! My feet! They burn! Help! HELP!" screeched Violet, writhing in her infirmary bed. For four days now she had been confined there while her feet healed, and she had grudgingly accepted that she would be here for several days more. That is, until she learned that Viktor was to head out with a group of scouts to spy on a sudden suspicious flurry of Forsaken activity... without her.

"That's not gonna work Vi, I know your feet are healing just fine, and you'll be able to walk soon. But not today, and no amount of acting is gonna get me to stay," Viktor said firmly, his long arms crossed over his chest. Violet stopped thrashing, though angry tears still threatened to spill onto her cheeks. "You need me! No one else can look out for you like I can!" she protested. Viktor's patience, already worn thin by Violet's antics, now vanished.

"EXACTLY!" he yelled, causing an elderly priest who was doing his rounds to jump in surprise. "You need to stop trying to protect me! Look where it's gotten you! I'm a man and I can take care of myself! You need to stop being so selfless! Have you ever thought how your actions affect me? D'you think I could live with myself knowin' you were killed because you were watching my back and not your own?" His outburst momentarily shocked Violet into silence. He had never spoken with such conviction, and she remained silent, knowing he had more to get off his chest.

Viktor paced a bit more then pulled a stool to her bedside, sitting in it heavily and leaning close to her. "When I saw you were gone from that boulder the other day I panicked. I thought for sure you'd been killed and dragged away," he said in a rapid, angry whisper. "I thought I was gonna have to... have to..." Viktor didn't need to finish his sentence, Violet nodded in understanding. She knew he was referring to their oath, that if one should be captured by the Forsaken and risen as an undead, the other sibling wouldn't stop searching until they had found them and performed the ultimate act of mercy: killing the other and saving them from an unnatural life of servitude.

"Vik... I understand, it's just-" Violet began before Viktor cut her off. "I don't care what you want Vi. I need to prove to you I can handle myself, and this will probably be my only chance since you're bedridden." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words he wanted to say. He grabbed her hand in his and looked pleadingly into her eyes. "You're all I got Vi. You're all I ever had, you gotta make sure you're okay, alright? For me." Part of Violet realized he was using the same tricks to win her over that he'd used since he first learned to talk, but another part of her understood the truth behind his words. She bit her lip and he smiled, instantly recognizing that he had won the argument.

He stood, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. As he turned to leave, Violet reached forward and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. He turned around and she started up at him, unable to put her emotions into words. Finally she said, "Vik... be careful." Viktor smiled widely.

"Aren't I always?"

A few hours later, Violet found herself still in bed, twisting the edge of the blanket in worry. A long-cold bowl of untouched soup sat on the table beside her bed, she had never even noticed the attendant deliver it. She stared straight ahead, though she knew it was probably too soon for them to have even neared the Forsaken camp, she couldn't help but allow her worst nightmares to skitter across her mind. Over the next couple days, she developed a pattern to keep her anxieties from dominating her mind. When a vision of Viktor, bled out and pale on the ground, made its way to the forefront of her brain she would clutch her silver pendant and battle the image with memories of their childhood. Not all of the memories were pleasant, but at least they were together.

She remember the two of them, she seven and he only two years old, being taken to the Stormwind orphanage after the death of their parents. She remembered playing in the yard with him, ignoring the other children. She remember the countless march of potential parents parading through their life, cooing and laughing at the toddler with gorgeous golden curls, dimpled cheeks, and infectious laughter. Viktor could charm the birds out of the trees if he had the inclination, but each time the adoption was canceled when the couple was told that Viktor came with strings attached, as the matron of the orphanage thought it would be too painful to separate the siblings. It was adopt both or neither, and the adults were less charmed by the sullen girl standing alone in the corner, giving short, quiet answers to their questions. At age five, Viktor took it upon himself to give his sister what he called "nice lessons". He tried to show her to smile and act pretty and friendly for the prospective parents. But Violet was wary of these people who were trying to replace her parents. She remembered their real parents, and Viktor had no memories before the orphanage. He naturally wanted a real family to call his own, but Violet was clinging to the past.

When she was seventeen and he only twelve, Violet left the orphanage and immediately enlisted in the military, hoping to earn enough money to buy a place for she and Victor to live. Their separation was devastatingly difficult for both of them, but she knew she had to ensure that they would be together once he also left. She visited him as often as possible, each time boggling over how much he had grown since she last saw him. Soon he was towering over her, and found no end of hilarity in resting his elbow on her shoulder. His voice deepened, and when they walked down the streets of Stormwind together, young girls would giggle and whisper to each other as he passed, to Violet's constant annoyance.

Then, one day during training when she was twenty-one, she glanced over at a batch of new recruits and nearly fell over in shock. Victor was standing there, smiling. She couldn't believe it, he was only sixteen! But the officers assured her it would be years before he would see combat, he needed training and evaluating to discover which area he was best suited for.

And now, three years later, they were on the same assignment: protect Arathi from the Forsaken war machine. And he was out there, deep in enemy territory... without her.

Three days after his departure, late in the afternoon, Violet heard a sudden commotion in the camp outside. She sat up straight in bed, only one thought dominating her mind. _"__He's__back,__he's__back,__he's__back!__"_ she thought over and over. As the commotion neared the infirmary tent, a black pit of worry began to grow in her stomach. The voices were urgent, worried, angry. A tent flap was shoved aside and two men were half-carried half-dragged into the infirmary. She recognized them as having left on the same mission as Viktor. She jumped out of bed, ignoring the needle-like pricks of pain in her feet as weight was put on them. She ran over, leaning over the bed of one of the injured men. Only two? At least twelve had left on the mission!

"Calen!" she shouted, grasping the shoulder of one of the injured men, "Where is Viktor, where is everyone?"

Calen winced, his hand covering a deep wound to his side. A soldier pulled her away from the bed so that the priests could tend to the man. "Calen! Where is he?" Violet screamed, struggling in the soldier's grasp.

"We're the only two left, Violet. The deaders got wind... we were ambushed," Calen said, wincing as he gestured to the second injured man on the bed next to him. His eyes were full of remorse as he looked back to Violet. "I'm sorry."

"But where is Viktor?" she shrieked, uncomprehending as she writhed in the soldier's iron grip, ready to bolt out of the camp and bring Viktor back herself. Calen simply shook his head.

"Violet... Viktor's dead."


	4. Chapter 4

_Six months later_

Violet stood on a small hillock, gazing across the plains for signs of undead. Since the death of Viktor, she had devoted her life to fulfilling the promise they had made when they realized that they would be fighting undead: to kill him and bring him true death. The first horrible days after learning of her brother's death, she simply laid in bed, starting at the roof of the infirmary tent. She refused all food and spoke to no one. However, she didn't shed a single tear. The priests were beginning to whisper to one another about sending her back to Stormwind for more extensive care when she sat up and began dressing wordlessly. She tucked her pendant under her tunic, gathered her weapons, and walked to the commanding officer.

She volunteered to act as a forward scout: the most dangerous assignment and one that no one was eager to perform. The commanding officer guessed at her intentions, and agreed to reassign her if she spent a day or two eating and recovering her strength. Ever since then, she had been skirting the very edge of Forsaken territory, sometimes hiding within spitting distance of their encampments, always looking for that familiar face, listening for that familiar voice. She did her duties, always sending reports on Forsaken activity, but her personal agenda was foremost in her mind. For six months now, she had been hunting her brother.

Night was rapidly falling as a chill wind howled across the plains. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter to her body. Today had again been fruitless, and she thought of returning to her small camp and lighting a fire to keep out the cold. After a few moments' contemplation, she decided to stay on guard for another hour or so, then she could return to the warmth of her camp. She walked slowly along the grass, not particularly afraid of being spotted by an enemy. She hadn't seen a single undead today. Even so, her senses were alert.

After about twenty minutes into her patrol, she thought she heard soft footfalls behind her. She spun around, but there was nothing behind her save rippling grass. She stood, alert. She could have sworn she heard footsteps...

"Hello Vi," said a quiet, familiar voice from behind her. Violet froze completely for three full seconds, then spun around in time to see someone emerge from the twilight shadows. No, not just anyone... him.

"Vik," Violet said in a strangled voice, raspy from disuse. "Vik..." she said again before giving a hollow sob. He stood only a few feet from her, dressed in the same black armor all forsaken scouts wore. His skin was white, his face gaunt and his limbs thinner than she remembered. Worst of all were the glowing yellow eyes that now looked at her. How she missed his beautiful hazel eyes! She stood, undecided for a few moments, the shock of seeing him so suddenly had her brain swirling. However, after only a few moments, she remembered her mission, and brought her bow up, pointing the deadly arrow at one of Viktor's glowing eyes.

Viktor shrugged, holding his hands out. "Do it, Vi. I've been followin' you for days, trying to work up the courage to talk to you. I... didn't want you to see me like this. But I knew you wouldn't be able to rest till I was... and I want you to. I hate this. Go ahead, I'm not gonna hold a grudge against my big sis."

Violet stared at him, her entire body trembling. In her mind, she had always sneaked up to a Forsaken camp, cleanly killed him with an arrow while his back was turned, and escaped back to safety. Having him here, in front of her, looking at her with that peaceful expression, it was entirely different. She couldn't see the dead skin, the withering limbs, the glowing eyes. In her mind she was seeing his bright smile, feeling his strong arms pulling her into a bear hug, hearing his laugh when she told one of her ever-lame jokes. The tears that she had been holding back for six long months now began coursing down her face. "I CAN'T!" she screamed, throwing her bow and quiver to the ground. "I can't kill my brother! I'm sorry, Vik, I'm so sorry! I just can't!" she said between sobs. She covered her face with her hands, ashamed of her weakness as she sobbed. She didn't even hear Viktor approach, but she soon found herself once again held in his embrace. It was unnatural, his cold body only increasing the chill she felt, rather than warming her. But he was her brother, no matter what he may have become, he would always be her brother. She leaned into his chest, her body wracked with sobs as she finally allowed herself to mourn him.

Viktor laid his cheek on the top of her head, a small smile curling his lips. "It's alright, Vi. I knew you wouldn't be able to do it, you're too kind-hearted. I just wanted to be with you again. Remember what I said before I left? You're my everything. You always have been, and you always will be." As he finished speaking, he tightened his hold on Violet, pressing her into his chest with one cold steel arm.

Vik, you're hurting me-" Violet began, only to be cut off by her own surprised gasp as she felt a razor sharp blade thrust into her back. Viktor pulled it out, then plunged it into her back again, this time eliciting a shriek of pain from his sister. "Shhh, Vi. It's alright, I'm here," he said quietly, removing the dagger again. Violet wrenched herself out of his grip, staggering backward, staring at him in horror. She now saw him as he was, a dagger dripping her own blood clutched in one white hand. She felt her own blood begin to run down her back, if she didn't staunch the flow...

"Why, Vik?" she croaked, aghast.

"Vi, we're meant to be together! Us against the world, remember that? Those are bonds that go beyond distance, beyond oceans and mountains, beyond death!" Viktor replied. Violet stepped backward again, already feeling the effects of blood loss. She shook her head once before turning and sprinting away. She didn't make it far. A shrill whistle was her only warning as Viktor's knife sliced through the air, burying itself between her shoulder blades. Violet screamed as she toppled forward. She lay face down in the grass, wallowing in the despair Viktor's betrayal brought. She stayed like that until Viktor caught up to her and pulled the blade from her back again. He wiped it clean on the grass next to her and sat down. He reached forward, rolling her over and pulling her into his lap, oblivious to the sticky blood that got on his hands and clothes. He positioned her sideways across his legs, holding her head to his chest. By now, Violet was too weak from blood loss and too numb from the horrifying turn of events to protest much.

"Shh, don't cry, Vi," he said soothingly, patting her cheek and leaving a smear of blood. "It won't be long, and you've got me here. My death was horrible, but I've got you safe. It'll just be like goin' to sleep." In his lap, Violet could do little more than give a few weak sobs now and then. She knew he was right, already her limbs were like lead weights, and her body felt colder than she thought possible. Her eyes threatened to close as she struggled against the inevitable.

Viktor continued to murmur his macabre comforts as she felt her life leeching away. "Vik," she mumbled with the last of her strength. "Yes?" he replied sweetly. Violet took a few shuddering breaths, trying to gather the remaining strength. What could she possibly say? That she would never forgive him for this? That he was a demon for putting her through this? That his idea of mercy was twisted and perverse? That she hated him?

No, as betrayed and angry as she was, she didn't hate him. A few last tears fell as she realized that she still loved him. No matter what he did to her, he would always be her beloved little brother: the boy who probably spent all of his savings on one crummy silver pendant for his big sister. It WAS she and him against the world, and nothing would change that. Despite this disgusting scene, she felt nothing but love for her brother. She took one more breath and said weakly, "I'm cold, Vik."

Viktor smiled and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, then kissed her softly on her forehead. "Go to sleep, Vi. When you wake up, you'll never be bothered by the cold again."

Violet closed her eyes and exhaled one last warm breath. She slept.


	5. Chapter 5

"Violet! This is the last time I'm going to warn you to stay close!" yelled a foul-tempered orphanage matron. Violet ignored the woman. She was thirteen after all, who did that bossy old lady think she was? Violet was practically a grown woman... at least she thought so. And the orphanage's picnics in Elwynn forest were so rare Violet simply had to take advantage and explore a bit. She stepped deeper into the woods, looking for adventure. She hadn't gone far when a flash of white burst from a shrub near her feet. Violet shrieked, startled. But she quickly realized it was just a bunny, scared from its hiding spot by her footfalls. Violet gave chase, nearly losing the rabbit several times. Imagine if she caught it! She doubted the matrons would allow her to keep a pet, but maybe she could sneak it in...

Finally, the rabbit darted into a small burrow located between two massive trees roots. Violet grinned, it was trapped. She just hoped that the den wasn't too deep. She got on her hands and knees, trying to peer into the gloom of the rabbit's refuge. A snap of a branch and a low growl from behind her were her only warnings she had. A sudden weight leapt into her, knocking her over. Violet screamed as her attacker ripped a large chunk of her homespun dress away. Violet scrambled upright and looked at her assailant: a young, skinny wolf. It spat bits of her dress onto the ground, eyeing her hungrily. Violet turned an ran as fast as she could, but of course the wolf caught up to her in only a few moments. It jumped at her again, sinking its teeth into her leg. Violet screamed in pain and fear as she fell forward. She sobbed, afraid to look back and see the wolf with its fangs dripping red.

But inexplicably, the wolf yelped in pain and released her leg. Violet dared a glance backward, just in time to see a rock smack the wolf squarely on the snout. The wolf yelped again, and took a couple steps backward. Violet turned her head in the direction the rock had flown from to see Viktor standing there, his face a mixture of anger and fear as he picked another hefty rock off the ground. He launched it at the wolf, though the wolf jumped backward to avoid this one. "GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE!" Viktor bellowed as loudly as he could, tears shining on his cheeks as he tossed another rock. The wolf stepped backward once again. It was a starving young thing, hoping to catch an easy meal. It wasn't going to risk its life fighting this warlike child. With a whimper, it turned and dashed off through the underbrush.

Viktor dropped his rock onto the ground and ran to Violet, helping her into a sitting position. "Vi!" he gasped between sobs, "Why'd you run off without me?" Violet was crying herself, and Viktor put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I saw a rabbit..." was all she could manage to reply. Viktor let out a disbelieving laugh and released her, ripping a strip of his second-hand shirt off and using it to bind the bite on her ankle. Violet trembled, the shock of the last tumultuous few minutes catching up to her. "I was so scared, Vik!" she burst out, trying to wipe away the tears that refused to stop falling. Viktor immediately hugged his older sister again. "Don't cry, Vi. I'm never gonna let anything happen to you. We're gonna be together forever."

"Why am I thinking about this? I haven't thought about that day in years." Violet wondered idly as she tried to wade through the blackness that was blanketing her mind. _"_More importantly, where am I? What happened to me?" Violet tried to open her eyes, but only succeeded in opening them partially, creating two thin slits through which to see. She had a blurry view of an overcast sky, and possibly the branches of a couple trees. She tried to maneuver her arms in order to prop herself up, but found them far too stiff.

"She's comin' round, Father, look!" said a gleeful, familiar voice near her head. Viktor! Viktor... Viktor... There was something terribly important that she wasn't remembering. Blast it! Her mind felt veiled in fog! What was wrong with her?

"Vik..." she managed to croak. She wanted desperately to see him. Something told her Viktor was the key to that important bit of information that she couldn't recall. She heard a few light footsteps and a shadow fell across her face. She felt one hand being grasped in two larger hands. "I'm right here Vi. I'm not goin' anywhere." Violet slowly closed her eyes, then managed to open them again, wider this time. She turned her head a fraction to the left, toward Viktor's voice. He was kneeling next to her, looking at her jubilantly. His yellow eyes stood out against his deathly white skin, and just past him she saw another undead man, wearing the garb of a priest.

That tantalizing tidbit of information that had been eluding her now burst forth in her mind. Viktor was dead. He had hunted her. And now she was dead. She looked into his eyes, a furious rage bubbling up inside her. The power of it shocked her. In life, she had never been able to feel anything but love for him, even as she lay dying in his arms, the wounds he had inflicted on her bleeding her life out. Now she felt nothing but hate. She didn't know if it was a result of becoming undead or that she had finally snapped, but she didn't care. All she knew is that now was the time to fulfill their promise. She had been unable to do it in life, but she certainly could now. Ironically, her twisted Forsaken mind had given her the power to do what she could not in life.

With an inhuman howl of rage she reached up, her hooked fingers seeking Viktor's throat. A detached part of her mind rationalized that you probably couldn't choke an undead to death, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying. Viktor was too surprised by her sudden outburst to stop her fingers from clamping around his neck. "Wha-?" was all he managed to say before she was violently trying to strangle the unlife out of him. The priest behind Viktor quickly moved to intervene, casting a quickly shackling spell on Violet, which pinned her arms to her sides and knocked her back onto the ground.

Violet struggled futilely against the spell for a moment before screeching, "I'll kill you Viktor! You're sick! How could you think this disgusting, unnatural existence is what I would want?" Viktor stood and stepped backward, his face a mask of hurt and dejection. "What's wrong with her, Father?" he said to the priest.

"Nothing at all. She regaining movement and memories quite quickly, faster than most in fact," said the priest in a kindly voice as he inspected Violet.

"I mean her... brain. I can't imagine how it got damaged, I was real careful carrying her back," Viktor replied quietly. "Oh, I shouldn't think anything is wrong there, either. Viktor, just because you embraced our lady's teachings doesn't mean she will," the priest responded. He thought a moment before continuing, "Frankly, if she doesn't improve, she won't be leaving Deathknell, if you understand my meaning. We can't have dissent in the Queen's ranks."

Viktor looked as if he had been sentenced to death himself. "No! You can't do that! I'll watch her!" he protested. The priest simply spead his hands, gesturing that it wasn't his decision. Viktor spun around and knelt next to Violet again, brushing her wild hair back from her face. "Please Vi, do what they say. You can't die. Be good, for me?"

Violet would have liked to spit in Viktor's face, but she had no saliva to use. Instead, she lapsed into a contemplative silence. If she died here, her torment would be over, but Viktor would live. No, she needed to see their promise through. Now it wasn't simply to prevent a life of undead existence, but it would allow her to get revenge on the one person she had trusted more deeply than she had trusted herself. "I'll be good," she said quietly, "I don't want to die." There, that should convince them she would be an obedient little zombie slave. Viktor's face instantly went from worried to exultant. "Let her go, Father," he said. The priest waved his hand and the holy shackles vanished, leaving light burn marks criss-crossing across her skin.

Viktor grabbed Violet by the hands and pulled her onto her feet. She swayed unsteadily for a moment, but quickly found her balance. She then yanked her hands out of Viktor's, holding them tight to her body. Viktor gave her another hurt-filled glance, but stepped away. "This way please," said the priest, leading them down a hill toward a small cluster of dilapidated buildings. They entered one and the priest began pulling various garments from piles, glancing from Violet to the clothes, trying to guess the appropriate size. "Your brother tells me you were a fine ranger. You'll do well protecting our borders." Violet gave a noncommittal grunt and stood as far from Viktor as possible. The priest placed the clothes he had chosen on a table, next to a tub of filthy-looking, sudsy water. On the table there were also a spool of fibrous thread and a few large, rusted needles, before Violet could begin to speculate what this was all for, the priest began stripping off her bloodied, torn armor. Viktor turned away to face the wall, Violet was certain he would be blushing if he had blood left. "What are you doing?" she protested.

"You can't expect us to send you into battle wearing these Alliance rags," the priest replied, businesslike. "Don't worry, you'll find we Forsaken are free of base human urges. This is just part of my job." Once Violet was naked, the priest grabbed a sponge from the tub of gray water and began cleaning the dried brown blood from her body. Violet nearly protested again, then realized there was nothing to fear from this brackish water. What was she afraid of? Getting an infection? After cleaning her off, the priest inspected her back as he threaded one of the large needles. "This may feel a bit odd, but you'll be happier if I stitch these up. It helps keep the flies out. And the fewer the flies, the fewer the maggots," the priest said as he began weaving the needle and thread through Violet's skin. It did feel odd, she felt the pressure of the needle as it entered, but no real pain.

A few minutes later the priest snipped the thread as the last stitches were threaded through her skin. The priest then handed her a small pile of clothes, which she happily pulled on. Black, all black. Violet supposed it made sense for a ranger to wear black, but did these undead have to be so cliché? Viktor turned around and appraised her approvingly, which made her furious once again. "Now what?" she said with hostility.

"Now, you serve our Lady Sylvanas Windrunner," the priest said, shoving a quiver of black-fletched arrows into her arms. Once she had strapped it on, he handed her a black longbow. Violet smiled. Finally! She turned toward Viktor, still smiling widely as she nocked an arrow. She pulled back the bowstring, and loosed one deadly arrow directly toward his forehead.


End file.
